


On the flipside

by millygal



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 17:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: Wanton pair of tarts!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just me playing nicely with the boys. I'll put 'em back when I'm done ;)

Sam finds his eyes drawn to the crease of fabric wedged underneath Gene's left buttock and wonders what it'd feel like to be that piece of material. Constantly attached to one of the worlds finest butt cheeks. Free to slide and glide across silky skin whenever he felt the need. Never having to worry about peoples knowing looks or scathing comments. Hours spent moulded to curves that burn.

Heaven.

Gene feels eyes at his back and turns, spots Sam staring intently at his arse, grins and saunters towards his errant DI's desk.

Sam doesn't really register the arse's change in direction, basically because he can now see the cloth covering Gene's crotch and has switched to imagining being **that** bit of material. It's only when said crotch is no more than 12 inches from his face that he looks up into sea green eyes and finds himself blushing, profusely.

Gene's got his thumbs hooked into the waist band of his trousers and is looking down on his deputy, smirking.

"Havin' fun, Gladys?"

"I...I...I was just..."

"I know exactly what you was doin' an' I just thought I should inform you..."

Gene slips behind Sam, lays a hand on his shoulder and bends to whisper in his ear. "...I'm not wearin' any skivvies"

Sam's eyes widen, his pulse rockets through the roof and his heart fairly beats its way out of his chest. That image should **not** be so hot. For one, it's disgustingly unhygienic, having ones bits rubbing in their trousers the entire day. For another, skivvies..? Ewww, but it's Gene and he definitely has a way with words that 'Websters' would have a field day with.

Gene can feel Sam shivering beneath his fingers and chuckles before straightening and walking away.

Making sure to wiggle his arse in Sam's direction.  
*  
*  
*  
*  
What kind of man purposely wears humanities tightest pair of jeans to work, knowing full well their boss will have a heart attack every time they bend over? An evil man, a sadistic man. A bloody bastard, dick ticklin', cock teasin', arse wigglin' sort of a man.

Sam Tyler is one such fella and Gene is about to lose his bloody mind if Sam waggles his arse in the air one more time.

Torture, bloody torture. 

When did Sam become such a tease? It's bad enough that Gene has to keep his mitts to himself during the day. Does he really have to rub it in his face, literally!?!

Oh Christ, there he goes again. Surely someone else must've noticed what a klutz Sam's being. He's never seen a bloke 'drop' so many things in one day.

Sam's a shit, a complete and utter shit. He knows full well that Gene's already high blood pressure must be somewhere up in the stratosphere and he still keeps finding excuses to stretch himself into ridiculous positions and poses.

Gene's own trousers are beginning to cut off circulation to his legs. He can't even feel his toes, let alone anything else.

How'd he get himself into those things anyway, pour himself in did he? They can't be comfortable, must be chafing like hell. Yet it's Gene who's squirming and fidgeting in his seat. Gene, who's body won't behave itself long enough for him to form coherent thought. Gene, who's about ready to kick Sam's very bitable arse.

Sam can feel Gene keep mentally undressing him, lubing him up and ragging him into his desk, so he turns, smirks and wanders towards the office door.

Gene feigns boredom when Sam opens the door, continues his nonchalant act right up until Sam's sat in front of him, propped against the desk.

"Having fun, Guv?"

"I...I..I was just..."

"I know exactly what you were doing and I just thought I should inform _you_...."

Sam pitches forward, plants his hands on Gene's thighs and whispers "...I **am** wearing skivvies, pink frilly ones"

Gene's jaw is still hitting his chest when Sam slips from the room, hint of pink material poking out the top of his trousers.

 

  


Fin...  
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